


Torch the Stars

by rarepairenabler



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M, Rating May Change, Squire!Kyoutani, Trans Male Character, Unsafe Binding Practices, knight!Iwaizumi, not major but it exists?, trans male kyoutani, which will be improved later I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:24:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9041093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarepairenabler/pseuds/rarepairenabler
Summary: Chest heaving, Kentarou snarls, "Why don't you send down one of your knights to face me? Those geezers could afford to learn somethin'."
  "Very well!" King Tooru's smarmy grin only broadens as he folds his hands beneath his chin. "Our newest squire is in desperate need of humbling. Would you care to oblige him?"
  Sir Hajime grins from where he's leaning against the castle wall. "As you wish, your Majesty." It would be my pleasure. It's unvoiced, but the sentiment's written plainly on Hajime's face as he unsheathes his sword.
OR IwaKyou Medieval AU where Kentarou is Hajime's squire





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Puck (wiccan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiccan/gifts).



> a few notes! 
> 
> 1\. MERRY CHRISTMAS, PUCK! So this isn't exactly a game of thrones AU but this is my version of your request. I was gonna write something totally different but then I reread your prompts and my imagination sort of got the best of me. I love you a lot!! and I'm so glad this squad brought us together <33
> 
> 2\. For those who don't read the tags (I've gotten a few surprised comments in the past and I swear I never mean for these things to be a surprise reveal) - Kyoutani is trans. He's also around 18/19ish here? Iwaizumi is 24
> 
> 3\. For those who don't like character death - I promise I'm not that cruel

"Ah, a lot of fresh blood this year," King Tooru says, nodding in approval as he strolls along the path of new recruits. The King's long red cape drags behind him, just begging for Kentarou to trample it beneath the heel of his boot.

"Tch."

The noise draws King Tooru's attention. " _Oh?_ Who's this?"

_Fuck._

Kentarou stiffens when Seijoh's king comes to a stop in front of him. King Tooru's gaze scans over his wiry frame, eyes dark and calculating as his lips tug into a smirk.

"Mad Dog," Prince Shigeru says as he steps in beside Tooru. "That's what his previous master called him. The other serfs, too. According to the man who sold him, Mad Dog was always talking back to his owners. He's disobedient and troublesome but he's _strong_. And surprisingly healthy for someone who probably hasn't had a full meal in a while."

Kentarou's eyes harden as he stares blankly ahead.

"The other serfs seemed to be afraid of him," Shigeru warns. "Mad Dog was known for starting trouble with the others. But if what I’m hearing is correct...he's never lost a fight."

The other wannabe knights shift uncomfortably, their eyes shifting over to Kentarou who offers a warning growl until they all look away again.

King Tooru hums thoughtfully. "Interesting."

"Hajime thinks that with enough training, he could be worthy of joining our ranks," Shigeru says doubtfully. Kentarou grinds his teeth together, his fingernails biting into the curve as his palm as he tries to keep from hitting ' _your Majesty_ ' Shigeru. _Fuckin' royals._

"And you don't think so?"

Prince Shigeru gives Kentarou a dismissive look. "No," he admits. "If you ask me, he's more trouble than it's worth. We could possibly still find work for him in the fields, but..."

"Thank you for your honesty," King Tooru murmurs, low and appraising as he tucks a strand of silver-brown hair behind Shigeru's ear. "But that'll be for me to decide." Tooru's grin broadens at the flush spreading across Shigeru's cheeks. Kentarou silently wishes one of the other squires would just put him out of his misery.

"Of course, your Majesty."

Finally, King Tooru addresses Kentarou. He takes another step forward, blocking off Kentarou's view in a way that demands Kentarou's attention. "Mad Dog-chan, it's nice to meet you."

Kentarou's lips pull back in a snarl. "My name is _Kentarou,_ " he grits out. "And this is a piss-poor excuse for army."

Tooru stares, his mouth hanging open in shock. Shigeru looks as if he's been physically struck by Kentarou's words. A collective gasp ripples through the crowd and Kentarou can feel the glares boring into his back.

"Majesty--"

Tooru shushes Shigeru as he tilts his head back and laughs. "Aha, Mad Dog-chan! What a spitfire you are." he reaches forward and squeezes Kentarou's chin between his fingers hard enough that Kentarou has to bite back a whimper. "So passionate! I like that. Maybe save some of that fire for the battlefield, mmm?"

Kentarou scowls and turns his head away.

" _See._ He's not one of us," Shigeru says. His shoulders hunch defensively, as if he's expecting Kentarou to lunge out and attack their precious king.

King Tooru grins, his smile as sharp as a cleaver when he strokes his fingers along Kentarou's jaw. "No, he _isn't_ ," he marvels. His eyes sparkle in amusement when Kentarou snaps at his fingers. "Well, I can see where the name comes from." He pulls back his hand and looks over his shoulder at the Prince. "Shigeru, fetch Sir Hajime for me. Tell him to bring the weapons; I want to see how well Mad Dog-chan handles himself in combat."

~*~

"Hajime! There you are!" King Tooru claps his hands together as a knight strides over on a black Friesian. Kentarou has never seen anything like it in person - the horse is graceful and agile, the perfect build for jousting.

Kentarou's previous masters would have had to sell off every inch of land they owned to afford one. His mouth tastes bitter as he tries, and fails, to imagine himself perched atop of a regal horse like that.

The horse comes to a stop and trots in place. 

The horse’s rider, a knight dressed in an unassuming suit of armor, shakes his hair free as he tugs the helmet from his head and scans over crowd of new recruits with a look of scrutiny on his face. "This is it, then?" _This must be 'Sir Hajime_ ’, Kentarou thinks as the man gives his horse a pat on the shoulder before dismounting. "S'less than the year before."

"’Fraid so! Iwa-chan, Shigeru and I were talking about how it'd be good to start this year's recruitment with a friendly competition – a festival to test the skill of these young men. What say you?"

He frowns. "Sounds time-consuming and frivolous."

"Iwa-chan," King Tooru complains, pouting. "Don't spoil my fun! It'll give you a chance to see what they're made of."

Kentarou finds himself siding with 'Iwa-chan.' "What if we don't want to?"

Once more, everyone's stares turn to Kentarou. Prince Shigeru's brow twitches.

King Tooru plasters on another grin, his teeth bared as he cocks his hip. "How about this then, Mad Dog-chan. You win, you can join our army's ranks as squire---" Shigeru chokes on his tongue "—if you lose? To any of these fine young warriors who’ll be competing?" Tooru gestures around them, "Well. You'll be _free_ to resume your pitiful live as a servant. Or perhaps you'd rather run wild in the woods? Choice is yours, Mad Dog-chan."

Bile rises up in Kentarou's throat as he scowls down at his boots. _Goddamn it._ King Tooru leers like he knows he has Kentarou beat.

"I'll compete."

"Wonderful! _See,_ Shigeru?" King Tooru says as he pats Kentarou's shoulder. "Mad Dog-chan and I have already started to reach an understanding!"

Kentarou flinches away from Tooru's touch, his glare is venomous as King Tooru turns on his heel to motion for for Prince Shigeru. "Now come, Shigeru, we have much to prepare!"

 

Hajime waits until their king has disappeared from view to address Kentarou. " _You._ Follow me." He takes the rope in hand, holding it in a slack grip as he leads his horse back to the castle. "I'll show you to your new chambers at the barracks."

"Do you have a name? A proper one, I mean," Hajime asks when Kentarou sprints to catch up with him. As Kentarou trots after him, the group of soon-to-be squires disbands.

"Kentarou."

Hajime gives him a look as if he's waiting for the rest. " _Just_ Kentarou?"

"Just Kentarou," he confirms, his jaw clenching as he walks a little faster.

"What village are you from?"

Kentarou chews on his lower lip. Hajime gives him a curious look but he doesn't press further as he lets the two of them lapse into a tense silence. As they walk, Kentarou finally lets himself peek over at the other man. From this close, it's obvious that Hajime's shorter than he'd thought.

Even so, Hajime has this towering sort of presence about him that makes Kentarou's shoulders straighten as he takes in the hard lines of Hajime's face.

"You'll be staying on the south-west branch of the castle," Hajime says, interrupting Kentarou's thoughts. He gives Kentarou a considering once-over. "You'll need new clothes, of course. I'll come with you to get fitted."

Kentarou's eyes bulge. "No." He wraps his arms around his chest protectively and winces when the tight bandages he’d fastened earlier dig against his ribs.

"No?" Hajime repeats. His brows draw together in confusion.

"I have my _own_ damn robes," argues Kentarou, his eyes darting away in fear that Hajime might somehow recognize the truth.

Hajime frowns. "Fine," he huffs. "For now, I'll lend you a pair of mine for the tournament. If King Tooru lets you stay, we'll have fitted for a pair of your own. Fair?"

"Fine," Kentarou grumbles as he watches Hajime retreat into the stables with his horse.

"So I don't have time to give you the full tour of the castle grounds, but I can help you get settled. Your room is on the third floor," Hajime tells him. Once again, Kentarou has to sprint to keep up as Hajime walks from the barn into the heavily-guarded castle. "You'll be sharing your living quarters with Shinji Watari. But I guess you're used to that sort of thing anyway?"

Kentarou grunts in acknowledgement.

"S'there anything else you might need?" Hajime asks when they arrive at the doorway of Kentarou's new room. Kentarou shakes his head.

"Well, if you think of anything..." Hajime trails off. His lips twitch into a smile at Kentarou's affronted expression. "Right. I'll leave you to it then." Hajime lingers a moment longer his face softening considerably as he folds his arms and leans against the banister. "Oh. And Kentarou? Good luck with the tournament."

"I—thanks." His heart leaps in his chest when Hajime chuckles and ruffles Kentarou's short cropped hair.

"Good night. Sleep well, soldier." Hajime takes his bow and then he turns and leaves - Kentarou resolutely does _not_ stare at the slope of Sir Hajime Iwaizumi's ass as he watches the knight retreat down the castle's dimly lit pathway.

With a grimace, Kentarou ignores the fluttery feeling in his stomach and wrenches the door open. Kentarou exhales sharply when he finds that the room’s blissfully unoccupied, taking only a moment to set down his satchel aside before flopping down onto the larger of the two beds.

_So this is 'home' now, huh?_

As if in answer, his stomach growls at him.

" _Fuck_ my life."

~*~

An hour later, there's a knock at the door. Kentarou considers telling whoever it is to fuck off, especially if it's King Tooru, that pompous jerk, but then he hears, "Kentarou? It's me, Shinji Watari. Can you let me in?"

With a huff, Kentarou rises and unbolts the door.

The boy who greets him is short with tanned skin, grey eyes and shaved hair. "So you're Kentarou, huh? I've heard a lot about you."

"Bed on the left's mine," Kentarou says in answer.

Shinji laughs. "O-kay then." He shakes his head as he shoulders past Kentarou. "Are you always this friendly?"

Kentarou glowers in response.

"Mmm, guess so," Shinji murmurs. They both flinch when Kentarou's stomach suddenly grumbles, the noise echoing off the brick walls. "Oh! That reminds me! I got you something." Shinji grins as he rummages through his sack until he retrieves a loaf of bread wrapped in cloth. "Aha! Here it is. Stole this from the pantry. I figured you might be hungry."

He hands it to Kentarou who takes the bread hesitantly, as if expecting Shinji to snatch it back at any moment. "Thanks," Kentarou mumbles as he tears the loaf apart with his teeth.

Shinji snickers. "I figured right, then. Man, you sure know how to make an impression! I thought King Tooru was gonna lose it." Shinji shakes his head. "You're lucky our Majesty's understanding. A lesser king would've. Well...y'know."

Kentarou swallows thickly as Shinji draws his finger across his own neck.

"So," Shinji continues after a beat of silence, "you've really never been a page?"

"Nope."

"But your parents...they're nobles, right?"

Kentarou snorts. " _Hell no._ "

"Wow," Shinji says as he leans back. "From peasant to squire. That's impressive. Unheard of, actually. I don't mean that as an insult!" he says, arms flailing when Kentarou narrows his eyes at him. "Just that...King Tooru must see something special in you to take that sort of risk."

"Whatever the hell he 'sees'--" Kentarou licks the crumbs from his lips, "—Prince Shigeru sure as hell doesn't."

Shinji snickers. "Prince Shigeru is just mad you've insulted his beloved king," he explains. His expression sobers as he steeples his hands beneath his chin. "Y'know, you can't actually become a knight without swearing an oath to King Tooru."

Kentarou turns his head away and mumbles something about crossing that bridge when he gets there.

"Suits yourself," Shinji hums. "But you're not gonna make many friends by disrespecting the most revered person in the kingdom. And trust me, you’re gonna _need_ to make friends if you want to survive this place.”

Kentarou folds his arms defensively. “I wasn’t exactly planning on sticking around long.”

“No?” Shinji says in surprise. “S’too bad. Knighthood may be tough, but it pays well. We get free shelter, free food, free ale. If you ask me,” he says, sighing dreamily as he looks up at the ceiling, “ _this is the life._ ”

~*~

It only takes King Tooru two days to organize the festival.

"King Tooru's always prepared for a party," Shinji tells Kentarou. “Hope you slept well. I think our Majesty’s gonna be expecting quite the performance from you.”

Kentarou yawns and rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Eh?”

Shinji looks over at Kentarou as he pulls back the linen drapes that the light shines through. “King Tooru’s never organized something like this for the squires before. But the stories about you’ve really piqued his interest. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen him his excited.”

Kentarou raises a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. “Stories?”

"Oh yeah, definitely." Shinji's eyes glint mischievously. "One story says you burnt your last village to a crisp. Another says you're a demon - very unoriginal, if you ask me." He drops down on Kentarou's bed. "And then there's one where you're actually a werewolf."

Kentarou groans and pulls his blankets over his face.

"So," Shinji prompts, "are you?"

"Am I what," Kentarou grumbles from beneath the blanket.

"A werewolf."

" _No._ M'not a fuckin' werewolf."

"Oh," Shinji says, his disappointment clear in his tone. "Yeah, I didn't think so. S'too bad, though. That would have been sorta cool."

"You gonna get off my bed so I can get dressed?"

Shinji snickers. "Not a morning person, then! Can't say I'm surprised." He obediently lifts himself from Kentarou's bed. "I'm gonna be down in the dining hall if you need me. Sir Hajime dropped by earlier with a pair of clothes for you and a new set of armor. I set those at the foot of your bed."

There's silence, and then, "Thanks," Kentarou murmurs.

"No problem. See you out there, roommate." The heavy door slams shut behind him.

Kentarou exhales at the fading sound of Shinji's footsteps and finally tosses his blankets aside. He crosses the room groggily, seals each bolt shut again before pressing his back to the door. "Okay," he says, steeling himself. With shaking fingers, he unties his bed shirt, letting it pool at his feet as he glances at his reflection in the full length mirror.

The swelling on Kentarou's left eye's starting to go down, but there's already a fresh bruise blooming purple and black across the splay of his ribs. Some of the serfs from his old village sure knew how to throw a nasty punch—the bruises on Kentarou’s ribs were his own doing. Frowning, Kentarou fetches the bandages he'd hid beneath the bed and fastens them around his chest, binding them tight but not tight enough to cut off his circulation.

Kentarou studies his reflection one last time. _Good enough_ , he thinks, his lips drawing into a tight smile as he fans his callused fingers over his flattened chest. He's shaken from his thoughts when he feels someone's fist rap against the door.

"King Tooru requests your immediate attendance in the courtyard! The festival will be commencing soon!"

_Tch. King Tooru's probably never 'requested' anything in his life._

"Out in a sec!" Kentarou shoves on the borrowed in record time, nearly tripping over his trousers as he yanks them up past his thighs. Time to get this shit over with.

~*~

Kentarou finds Shinji waiting for him in the stables with the other squires.

"Hey, over here!" Shinji beckons him over with a smile. He bites his lip as he takes in Kentarou's tunic and tights. "Are those...are those _Sir Hajime's?"_

"Maybe," Kentarou grunts as heat rises his to his cheeks. "What of it?" he snaps. The tunic drapes loosely over his frame, the stitching around the sleeves slightly torn from wear, but it still looks new in comparison to the rags Kentarou was used to wearing. Hajime's deep, musky scent infiltrates Kentarou's senses.

"Nothing, nothing!" Shinji says as he lifts a hand to muffle his laughter. "Didn't say anything! Don't forget to put your armor or unless you wanna be a human shish kabob."

“Whatever,” Kentarou grumbles as he ducks down to clasp the heavy armor to his knees and thighs.

"You've never worn chain-mail before, have you?" Shinji asks when Kentarou sags under the weight of it.

"That obvious?"

"Definitely."

"Alright men, mount your horses!" Sir Takahiro instructs.

Shinji schools his expression into something more serious as he leans over and whispers, "Incoming. Sir Hajime's coming our way."

Kentarou's pulse skips in anticipation. He's half way through fastening his saddle to a gorgeous brown stallion he's chosen when he hears a familiar voice behind him. "Do you need help with that?"

He swallows hand and fumbles with the saddle. "I've got it. Thanks." In demonstration of how fine he is, Kentarou loses his footing and falls against Hajime's chest. " _Shit_. Still getting used to the extra weight," he explains.

"Of course." There's amusement in Hajime's voice as he braces his hands on Kentarou's hips. "Here, I got you." His hands slide to Kentarou's lower back, eliciting a surprised noise from Kentarou when the taller knight hoists him up onto his horse. "There you go."

All the words at Kentarou's dispense stick to the back of his throat. Unarmed, Kentarou gives Hajime a stiff, overly formal nod of his head in thanks. Off in the distance, he hears Shinji cackle.

"Men, get ready. Grab your lances; the festival's just begun."

Sunlight gleams in Kentarou's eyes as the castles doors creak open to reveal rows and rows of stands crowded with townsfolk.

"Christ," Kentarou says under his breath. "Did King Tooru invite the whole court?"

Shinji exhales in wonder as he grips the reins a little tighter. "Seems like!"

"Thank you everyone for joining us for this wondrous occasion!" King Tooru grins brightly at the audience and waves. "Today some of our finest young soldiers will be competing in a jousting tournament. After we've named our champion, we'll feast!"

Kentarou's stomach flips as the crowd erupts in applause and cheers.

"The rules are simple: last man left on his horse wins! Let the games begin!"

 

"Next, we have Yuutarou Kindaichi and the infamous Mad Dog!"

It'd be so easy to forfeit; he could let himself fall sideways and tumble onto the grass once he and Yuutarou cross paths. And yet, as he listens to the raucous roar of the crowd, his heart starts to thunder against the cage of his ribs, the words, ' _I want to win I want to win I want to win'_ thrumming through his veins as the townsfolk chant his name.

"Commence!"

Kentarou tips his helmet down and points the lance forward. Dark eyes blazing, he kicks his horse into a gallop and charges forward with enough force that his whole body rocks forward with each rough stride.

As they cross paths, Yuutarou flinches. Kentarou's lance strikes through the air and collides with Yuutarou's shield and then Yuutarou's toppling off his horse and landing on the dirt with a heavy crash.

"And we have our winner! Congratulations, Mad Dog!" the announcer hollers.

When Yuutarou, finally lifted himself from the ground, he pants roughly and stretches out his hand to Kentarou who returns the gesture with a withering look. With a gulp, Yuutarou shrinks away from him.

"Alright men, good match!"

Kentarou's heart's still hammering as the other knights usher him out of the courtyard and back into the stables. He watches the next few matches: Motomu loses to Akira, who loses to Shinji, who loses to Prince Shigeru, and the Kentarou's being called out into the courtyard once more.

"Whoever wins this final match," says King Tooru, "will be named champion!"

Kentarou lines up on the other side of the bar and raises his lance in challenge. Like all the other royals, Shigeru rides only the most well-bred horses, and his gold-plated armor's more exquisite than any squire's.

"Ready your lances," the announcer yells. "And... _go._ "

Kentarou surges forward. Everything narrows down to the pound of hooves against the ground. His eyes fly open again and then he's swinging his lance forward and ducking just in time when Shigeru retaliates. Kentarou's lance catches against the solid steel of Shigeru's shield and they struggle for a long moment, both of them trying to shove the other off their steed until, finally, Kentarou grits his teeth pushes hard enough that Shigeru's shield clatters from his hands. He swings one more and this time aiming for the prince's waist, flinging him off his horse with one sweeping blow.

Without waiting for the announcer to declare a winner, Kentarou drops the lance aside and does a victory lap around the yard, his eyes narrowed in challenge when he eases to a stop in front of the king. "There. I've beat your stupid 'competition'. Pleased?" Kentarou sneers.

"Immensely." The crowd falls quiet as King Tooru smirks down at him from the castle's royal balcony. "So the rumors about you are true, then? Excellent."

Kentarou makes a derisive noise.

Chest heaving, Kentarou snarls, "Why don't you send down one of your knights to face me? Those geezers could afford to learn somethin'."

"Very well!" King Tooru's smarmy grin only broadens as he folds his hands beneath his chin. "Sir Hajime, you're already in full gear. Our newest squire is in desperate need of humbling. Would you care to oblige him?"

Sir Hajime grins from where he's leaning against the castle wall. "As you wish, your Majesty." _It would be my pleasure._ It's unvoiced, but the sentiment is written plainly on Hajime's face as he unsheathes his sword.

"This time the rules will be different," Tooru tells them. "You'll fight on foot, armed only with your swords."

Kentarou nods and hauls himself up off his horse. Someone nearby tosses him a sword and then he's being pushed into the very center of the courtyard. His skin prickles with sweat, his chest tightening as he imitates Hajime’s posture. They pace around each other in a circle, both of them crouching until Kentarou’s patience draws to an end and he lunges forward with a shout. Sir Hajime’s quick on his feet; he matches Kentarou blow for blow, his composure unwavering even as Kentarou sneers and strikes over and over with brutal force.

“Nice stamina,” Sir Hajime praises, just as he kicks Kentarou’s feet out from under him. He presses his boot down against Kentarou’s chest, his lips quirking into an amused smile. “Technique needs work.”

Sir Hajime’s sword drifts from Kentarou’s stomach to the base of Kentarou’s throat. From this close, Kentarou can perfectly make out the angular lines of Hajime’s cheekbones and he really _shouldn’t_ be admiring the dark fan of Hajime’s lashes when the knight has a sword hovering at his throat but having Hajime pin him to the ground really isn’t as uncomfortable as it should be.

“I’ll take this one,” Sir Hajime yells up to their king. He withdraws the sword and Kentarou’s lips part on a groan.

“But Yuuutarou—you already have one, sir,” Prince Shigeru sputters.

“Then I’ll have _two_ squires.”

“Your Majesty, you can’t possibly agree—“

“I’ll allow it.” King Tooru claps his hands together. “Starting from now Sir Hajime Iwaizumi’ll have two squires: Yuutarou Kindaichi and Mad Dog-chan!”

As the crowd cheers, Hajime crouches. “On your feet, soldier. Your training starts at dawn.”

He extends a hand and Kentarou takes it without hesitation.

~*~

Just as promised, after the tournament King Tooru hosts a grand feast in the dining hall.

Kentarou walks down the long path of benches with his tray in hand. Each time he eyes an empty seat, someone nearby shoots him a dirty look like they’re just daring him to come over and start something and god, it’s tempting. Restless energy’s still surging through him as he shifts, unsettled. Maybe driving his fist through someone’s face might help him uncoil the tension in his gut. He’s already tugging up one of his sleeves, his lips curling in a sneer at the words he hears them utter under their breath – words like ‘mutt’ and ‘freak’ and ‘demon’ -- when Shinji’s voice captures his attention.

“Kentarou! Come, sit with us!” Shinji waves him over and Kentarou obliges with a grumble, taking one moment to glower at the people who’d been staring before he slides his tray down next to Shinji’s. Yuutarou and Akira shuffle over to make room for him at the table. Neither of them seems too pleased about Shinji’s hospitality.

Suddenly self-conscious, Kentarou stabs his fork at the lamb chops on his plate and asks, “Aren’t you worried about being seen around me?”

Shinji shrugs. “Look, you may think of yourself as a one-man army but that sort of attitude’s not gonna fly here. This isn’t just a military, it’s a _brotherhood._ And one that honors loyalty above all. You’re one of us now,” he concludes, “which makes us brothers.”

Kentarou blinks rapidly. “Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me,” he says when he regains composure.

“Don’t mind Shinji,” Akira says, “he’s a sentimental sap.”

“I am _not!”_

Akira rolls his eyes.

“Oh, I should probably introduce you guys. So this is Akira—” Shinji gestures to the young man with dark, parted hair and a perpetually blank expression “—and that’s Yuutarou. Although I guess you two have already met?”

Yuutarou waves sheepishly.

“Prince Shigeru sits with us too, sometimes. But today he’s…” Shinji trails off when he sees Kentarou’s gaze drifts over to the table where Hajime’s sitting with Issei and Takahiro.

Hajime’s eyes are crinkled in a smile as he laughs and hooks an arm around Issei’s shoulder. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing russet tanned skin and firm muscle and _god he looks good._ Goosebumps prickle Kentarou’s skin when Hajime looks up, his gaze catching Kentarou’s for one searing moment before Issei leans in and murmurs something in Hajime’s ear. The tips of Hajime’s ears turn pink as he looks away again, leaving Kentarou to wonder what the other knight might have said.

“Oh boy. You too, huh?” Shinji chuckles as he pats Kentarou’s back consolingly.

At Kentarou’s confused expression, Shinji grins and nods at Yuutarou. “Yuutarou’s had thing for Sir Hajime since forever, basically.”

“He could probably crush my skull between his thighs,” Yuutarou says, his voice wistful as his mashed potatoes drip from his fork.

Akira frowns in disapproval.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Shinji hums. “He’s pretty popular around here, although not as popular as King Tooru. Half the cavalry has a crush on one or the other.”

Kentarou’s eyes flick over to Hajime’s table again. “I don’t have a goddamn _crush_ ,” he hisses when Shinji smiles knowingly.

“No? Hmm. My mistake then.” Shinji doesn’t sound the least bit sincere. Kentarou’s seriously starting to reconsider the tentative truce he has with his roommate. “I wouldn’t feel too bad about losing to him earlier, by the way. He’s been the reigning champion for a few years now; nobody can touch him.”

Akira’s lips twist in the slightest of smirks. “Sir Takahiro’s drunkenly challenged him to an arm wrestling match on more occasions than I can count.”

“He’s never won _once_ ,” Yuutarou says, his eyes glazed over in admiration.

“How old is he, anyway?” Kentarou asks. “Sir Hajime, I mean.”

Shinji’s brow furrows as he considers it. “24, I think?”

“S’young for a knight, isn’t it?”

“Ah, well.” Shinji shrugs. “He’s one of the king’s chosen men, so he got knighted early. Plus, we don’t have as many seasoned fighters anymore.” Shinji shares a sad look with Akira and Yuutarou. “Soldiers move the ranks faster these days to make up for the men we’ve lost in war.”

Yuutarou’s eyes widen and he tilts his head in Hajime’s direction. “What do you think _that’s_ about?”

Someone official-looking has made their way over to Hajime’s table. They unfurl their scroll, say a few words, and then they’re off again just as quickly as they came.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” Akira says, sounding already bored as Sir Hajime gets up from his bench and cross the short distance from his table to Kentarou’s.

Sir Hajime folds his arms behind his back. “Shinji. Yuutarou. Akira.” He bows his head in greeting. “ _Kentarou._ ”

“ _Sir._ ”

“The king’s requested your immediate presence.”

Kentarou makes a face like he’s just tasted expired milk. “Do I have a choice?”

Hajime smiles. “Nope. Now c’mon, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Kentarou grumbles under his breath, but he dutifully follows Hajime out of the dining hall.

They’re ascending the stairs together when Kentarou finally stops nibbling on his nails and asks, “S’any chance you know what he wants me for?” 

_Why me? What the hell does he even see in me? What does he **want?** _ The question’s been echoing in Kentarou’s head ever since the first day he’d arrived at the castle.

“Ah.” Hajime’s lips twitch in a smile. “King Tooru…works in mysterious ways. I’m sure in time his plan will reveal itself.”

“You have no idea, do you?” Kentarou says, snorting.

“Not a damn clue,” Hajime answers with a bemused sigh. “Here we are,” he says when they reach the top of the stairs. “You gonna keep that attitude of yours in check?”

Kentarou makes a noncommittal noise.

“Hajime! Mad Dog! Come in,” they hear King Tooru say as Hajime pushes the door open. King Tooru’s bent over an oak table, his eyes scanning what appears to be a miniature replica of the Shiratorizawa kingdom. He gestures them in.

Kentarou stiffens in King Tooru’s presence. He shrinks a little, his shoulders hunching as he takes in the red drapes with their gold trim, the grand chandeliers shimmering above him, the several oversized oil portraits, including the one of the king himself which hangs over the mantelpiece. In the portrait, Tooru’s perched high on an extravagant throne, his figure looking down at Kentarou with a condescending smile that makes Kentarou’s blood boil. 

“Your majesty,” Sir Hajime greets with a bow.

Tooru’s nose scrunches. “Jeez, Iwa-chan. _So formal._ I’m still not used to that yet.” His attention shifts to Kentarou. “Sit, sit. No point in just standing there; there’s plenty of chairs to go around.”

Kentarou looks to Sir Hajime who gives him a nod. Ignoring the gnawing feeling in his stomach, He pulls up a seat at the table and takes a seat, slouching back and splaying his legs casually as he waits for the king to explain whatever the hell’s going on.

“So I’m sure you’ve had a lot of questions of your mind, Mad Dog,” King Tooru starts. “You’re probably wondering how in only a week you’ve been elevated to the prestige status of a squire. Prove yourself worthy of the title and you could be a knight someday. Most boys only dream of such a thing.”

Kentarou doesn’t answer.

Tooru combs his fingers through his wavy bangs and continues, “Prince Shigeru fought me hard on this choice. He’s never challenged me on anything, you know?” Tooru’s soft brown eyes glint in amusement. “You have no military experience. You’ve never been a page. You don’t come from high breeding, you don’t own land and you’ve been outright insubordinate since the moment we met.”

Kentarou glares. “Then why—”

“ _I’m not finished yet._ ” Tooru’s smile is saccharinely sweet as he tugs off one of his silk gloves. He looks down and traces patterns across the fabric. “I’m sure you already know, but we’re _losing the war._ ”

A tense silence falls over the room. Sir Hajime clenches his fists against his chair’s armrests.

There’re dark circles under Tooru’s eyes that Kentarou hadn’t noticed before. His hands—still annoyingly _dainty_ —are trembling. _Christ, this is weird._

Kentarou sinks down a little farther in his chair.

“This war is older than I am. It’s spanned for over 50 years now and our kingdom’s suffering for it. If we carry on this way then we’ll have to succumb to Shiratorizawa’s forces and I _refuse_ —” King Tooru smashes his fist against the table, his face contorting in pain a second later. “Shit shit _shit._ ”

Hajime shakes his head at the king. “Dumbass, don’t go around abusing your furniture.”

“Iwa-chan, be nice! I’m in pain!” King Tooru blows on his fist, his eyes squeezing shut as he hisses through his teeth. “Ugh, pretend that never happened,” he tells Kentarou. “My point is that Shigeru believes in tradition, and I do too but I also have to do what’s best for my people. We need men like you, Mad Dog. If Seijou’s going to stand a chance against Shiratorizawa…we need _warriors._ ”

He picks up the crowned figure on the table—King Ushijima, most likely—and crushes it in his palm. “Maybe you weren’t born into this life, but it doesn’t matter to me. After all, talent isn’t something you’re born with; it’s something you make _bloom._ So what do you say? Will you help me lead Seijou to victory?”

“Kentarou?” Hajime prompts when Kentarou doesn’t reply.

“Fine,” Kentarou snaps. “Now can I go?”

King Tooru huffs in defeat. “Fine, yes. Go.” He dismisses Kentarou with a wave. “Since you’re Sir Hajime’s new squire, he’ll start training you soon on all your new duties.”

Kentarou freezes. “Duties?”

“You know…tending to the stables, carrying Hajime’s shield, helping him into his armor. You knew about this, didn’t you?” Tooru snickers at Kentarou’s horrified expression. “A squire doesn’t set foot onto the battlefield until his knight’s deemed him ready.”

_Great. So I’m basically a glorified errand boy._

Just as Kentarou’s reaching for the doorknob, he hears King Tooru say, “Oh and _Iwa-chan_ , be sure to fit him for some new robes. The tunic of yours is far too baggy. It’s not a good look.”

“It was just a temporary thing. I’ll have him fitted for new ones in a few days.”

Kentarou can still hear their muffled voices as he makes his way back down the hallway towards his own chambers which is located inconveniently at the opposite branch of the castle.

“You’ll see. I’m going to sharpen those lethal fangs of his,” Kentarou hears Tooru say. Followed by, “Ow! Sir Hajime, I _demand_ that you stop hitting me!”

Kentarou bites back a smile.

“Idiot, then stop saying creepy shit like that,” Hajime retorts. “You’re gonna freak him out!”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://tobioslilgiant.tumblr.com/) l [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ambyguity_)


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